HTLJ: One Day

by Arianna18

What would Iolaus' life be like if Hercules were no longer with him?

1. Chapter 1

Cerrillos has documented the two past events of Medea's encounters with Jason, Hercules and Iolaus, in her stories, 'Old Blood' and 'Flesh and Blood'. Her chronicles, available through the Library, are a richly detailed description of the choices and actions which led to the outcomes told here. Readers are strongly encouraged to review those events, to understand the twisted evil which led the witch to seek such a terrible, and tragic, retribution.

I thank Cerrillos for allowing me to reference her stories, in this continuation of the conflict between Medea and Iolaus.

Prologue:

She smiled grimly in satisfaction. In all the years, she had not forgotten his perfidy, nor her desire for revenge. Her hatred had grown like a serpent, fed by her malice, until it consumed her, drawing her back to Greece to seek him out, to spew her venom, and poison his world. Having decided to act, she was frustrated by the need to wait, to find the right moment. It had taken months of tracking by her agents, and she'd been increasingly infuriated that her quarry never seemed to follow any predictable pattern, wandering from one town to another when called by someone who needed them. It had been impossible to anticipate where they'd be for long enough to make her move.

But now, now she knew. And she was ready. He'd pay for what he'd done to her...he'd pay with his heart and his soul, for the rest of his life...he'd pay forever....

* * *

Chapter One:

It had been a particularly busy, tiring year...and Iolaus had to admit, he wasn't getting any younger. The truth was, he was beginning to dread the day when he wouldn't be able to act fast enough, run far enough, jump high enough, or fight hard enough to be of use to Hercules. Iolaus refused to acknowledge his exhaustion, refused to accept that the years were beginning to weigh him down. His soul was fed by Herc's seemingly endless strength, and boundless youth, allowing him to carry on, pushing his own aches away, letting the force of his own will cover the diminishing energy and reserves of his body. It would be years yet, before he had to bow out. Years of watching his buddy's back, and of enjoying the hours of his company. Years of making a difference, of taking on and stopping warlords who'd gotten out of control, monsters who were wreaking havoc. Years and years, yet. He smiled at the thought.

Still, he was glad of the break. They'd decided a week ago to take some time off, to kick back and relax. And they knew the perfect place. So, they'd been walking at a steady pace, not rushing but enjoying the crisp fall air, knowing there was nowhere they had to be, nothing they had to do, but make their way back to that special place they'd enjoyed since they'd been boys.

Iolaus was gleefully anticipating the fishing, and he'd be glad once they'd finally arrived.

"Finally," Iolaus exclaimed as they started off along the road up into the hills, heading for his absolutely most favourite fishing hole in all of Greece. It was high in the forest, a little stream emptying from the snowcapped peaks above into a deep, turquoise pool before tipping over the edge of the plateau to fall in a sparkling waterfall down further into the deep green forest below. It was quiet. There were no monsters, no warlords, no upset or frightened villagers...just a little meadow with late fall wildflowers, the shimmering pool only slightly larger than the competition field at Olympia, shady pines, whispering ash trees, and birds, squirrels and rabbits, in case the fish weren't biting.

Paradise.

Herc grinned at his partner, catching the enthusiasm. They'd been on the road for months, hurrying from one crisis to another, without any breaks, and they were tired. The peace and quiet would do them both good. Herc had quietly put the word out that they would be away for a few days, so that no one would worry about them, or more importantly, try to find them. He knew as well as Iolaus did that the hunter wasn't getting any younger. His buddy needed this break and Hercules was determined that they would have a great time.

They'd found the place years ago when they were kids, out exploring the hills around Thebes once Alcmene had decided they were old enough for overnight camping trips. They tried to get back at least once a year, more often when their lives permitted the indulgence. There weren't many who knew about the place, or where it was. Just very old friends, and their families, people they had gifted with the experience of sharing the peace and beauty with them.

Oh, it didn't hold perfectly happy memories. Some of the people who'd gone there with them were now gone, most very tragically. Sometimes, in quieter moments, they would each see their families there, the children playing in the sun, their wives relaxing away from the chores of their homes. Or, sometimes they'd see the families of friends, good friends, families who were no more. But, somehow, the place never lost its magic, never held the pain, only the joy they'd always known when there. So, the memories which might have stung brought instead echoes of happinesses long past, nostalgic memories of the most joyous times of their lives.

It was an enchanted place, one they both treasured, one they were both eager to visit again. It had been too long.

It was late in the year, though, later than they usually chose for a few days up there, high on the mountain. It might be cold during the nights, very cold. Iolaus shrugged away the worry. If it got too cold, well, there was a village not all that far away where they could buy or borrow a couple of cloaks.

Nothing was going to ruin this trip.

Nothing could.

Several hours later, they climbed up through the high mountain village, stopping to chat with old friends and to get some lunch at the local tavern. They had a hearty meal of boar stew, fresh bread and ale, Iolaus indulging his sweet tooth with a generous portion of honeycake, while Herc munched on an apple. They gossiped with the other men in the tavern, exchanging the news of recent events, catching up on the life of the village since they'd last been there. They relaxed in the warmth of the hearth's fire and comradely laughter. To the extent that either of them had a home anymore, this was it. A place that had always been theirs, with people who were known and trusted.

During the discussion, they were cautioned by concerned friends that winter seemed to be coming early this year, and it might be cold...might even snow. Such an evil thought caused Iolaus to shiver dramatically, drawing another round of raucous laughter. His anathema for cold was well known. He'd made a joke of it, but he really didn't like the cold and wondered if they shouldn't prepare for it. He cast a wry look at Herc, who never seemed bothered by incidental things like the weather. Maybe it was just another sign that he was getting old.

But, that wasn't true...he'd never liked the cold, never. He remembered their first trip up into the mountains in the early spring, so long ago now, to find the cave of the snow bear. They'd found it. And they'd found a lot more besides. They'd found the absolute trust which had grounded their friendship ever since, taking it past the the escapades of youth into something profoundly solid and dependable.

Still, he really hated the cold, so, when they were passing by one of the last cottages, and the old woman hailed them to gossip for a while (she'd always liked these boys), and she mentioned she had a couple of good warm cloaks if they needed them for a few days, they gratefully took her up on her offer. It never hurt to be prepared.

Watching them walk off into the forest, she smiled after them. They were good men. She sighed, going back into her little, thatched cottage. They'd sure known hard times, the both of them. Why, for almost a year, they'd all thought Iolaus was dead, killed by that terrible demon. But, Hercules had helped him find his way back, thank the Gods, and they'd been together again now for, what? Going on ten years, she figured. Well, it was a good thing. Good for them. Good for Greece. They'd never stopped doing everything they could to help folks in trouble. Yes, they were good boys.

She wondered if she should have mentioned having talked with a stranger passing by the day before. The unknown woman had looked familiar, but the old one hadn't been able to link her features with those she had known but a time or two more than twenty years before. She'd been pleasant, friendly, and obviously well set up. On a journey for old times sake, as she'd explained, she'd just been passing by, visiting places she's stayed years ago. The two of them had gossiped about who still lived around here, and the stranger remembered tales that Greece's two most renowned heroes sometimes camped nearby. The old woman hadn't been able to resist reminiscing about the boys...and commenting that she hadn't seen them for a while, so it was likely they'd be back again soon. As soon as she'd said it, the stranger had shivered a bit in the fall air, and had generously remembered the extra cloaks she had in her baggage. Without hearing a word of reluctance or thanks, she'd left the cloaks in case the lads passed by so late in the year and had need of them. A nice woman, the old crone thought. Wish there were more like her in the world.

But, it had slipped her mind. Things did these days. Still, she should have acknowledged the kindness of the woman, leaving those cloaks behind for them, just in case they needed them, the nights growing so cold and all. Ah well, she'd tell them when they came back after their little holiday up by the pool.

If she remembered.

Cackling to herself, resigned to her absentmindedness, she picked up her needlework and carried it back out to sit in the warmth and brightness of the afternoon sun.

* * *

It was with a sigh of immense satisfaction that they arrived up by the pool late in midafternoon. Dumping the cloaks he'd been carrying at the base of a fir tree, Herc set up the camp, while Iolaus cut two fishing poles from a nearby ash, trimming them with the knife he and Herc had made together so many years ago. Slipping it back into its sheath behind his back, he pulled the fishing line out of his pack, and the hooks, and it wasn't long before they were both stretched out on the bank of the crystal clear waters, backs leaning against rocks which had been warmed by the sun.

Iolaus took a deep breath of the cool mountain air and smiled contentedly.

Herc grinned indulgently at him, "Having a good time, my friend?"

"You know I am, Herc. Gods, I love this place," Iolaus replied with a grin, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

"I know what you mean," replied Hercules, leaning back, closing his eyes, enjoying the sunlight, the fresh scent of the air, the quiet. "Sometimes, I wish we never had to leave."

"Hmmm," murmured Iolaus, leaning his own head back, completely relaxed.

They dozed for awhile, rousing when the poles jerked in their hands, whooping like boys at the size of the fish, each one vying to get the biggest one. Finally, the sun setting behind the mountain, the air cooling off, they built up the fire and speared the fish on short stakes to cook over the flames.

Once the sun was completely down, they could feel the bitter chill in the air. Iolaus shivered as he pulled blankets out of his pack to lay on the cooling earth. Herc ambled over to where they had dropped the cloaks earlier, and shook them out. He grinned when he saw the disparate sizes.

"Hey, look Iolaus, made to order!" he called laughing.

Iolaus looked up, brows raised as he noted one was very long, cut wide and deep, while the other was a less generous size. "Well, that's convenient," he called back good-naturedly. At least, they wouldn't be haggling over who got the warmest one. He caught the one Herc threw at him, and pulled it around his shoulders. Hercules carried his own back, only wrapping it around himself just before he sat down again by the fire, surprised it covered him right to the ground, leaving only his neck, forearms and hands, and boots clear of the generous material. It wasn't often he found a cloak long enough for his lanky form.

Hercules shifted a bit, thinking it felt a little rough against his skin, prickly, almost like tiny burrs. But, he ignored it. Beggers can't be choosers, and it would be better than freezing to death when the temperature dropped even further during the night. The bite in the air was already sharp enough that he knew even he'd feel the cold. Glancing over with a warm grin, he could only imagine how much Iolaus would be complaining about it before morning.

They talked quietly for a while, feeding the fire, reminiscing about other times they'd come here, and about some of their more memorable adventures. Iolaus had Herc roaring with laughter with his exaggerations and droll commentary on some of their less noble and heroic moments, like the time Herc had been turned into a pig, or the related incident later when Iolaus had been chained to Autolycus, and they'd both been morphed into clownish beasts by a vengeful Ares. The hilarity distracted Hercules from the increasing irritation of the cloak. Must be something in the material that irritated his skin, he thought in passing.

The two of them had piled enough wood near to hand earlier to feed the fire through the night. Relaxed, happy, they wrapped their cloaks securely around themselves and finally bedded down to sleep, content to know they had several more days of relaxation ahead of them.

* * *

Hercules' had slept badly. The cloak seemed to scratch and burn more as the night wore on, causing him to shift restlessly. It was only the cold which kept him from flinging it off in irritation. Once, he glanced over at Iolaus, marvelling that his buddy didn't seem the least bit bothered. The garments were made of the same material, so Iolaus' had to be as rough, but the hunter slept blissfully, snuggled in the warm wrap. Sighing, Herc shifted again and drifted back into a restless sleep.

It was sometime toward dawn when Herc woke with a scream, feeling as if his body was on fire. Iolaus woke immediately, scrambling to his feet, terrified by Herc's frenzied voice.

"Get it off me!" Hercules roared again, writhing on the ground, rolling to his knees, fingers clawing at his shoulders to tear the cloak from his body. Iolaus dove to his side, not understanding, just knowing his buddy was in trouble, not yet having taken in the extent of the agony which was tormenting Hercules. Iolaus grabbed at the material, pulling hard, but Herc shrieked at the new hideous torment. It was like having the skin pulled from his bones, tearing while it burned with a hot fire.

Iolaus pulled his hands back, not knowing what to do, confused, increasingly terrified. "What?" he cried. "Herc , what's wrong?"

"The cloak," Hercules grated, as he thrashed madly, but couldn't free himself. The cloak had melded to his body, it's millions of tiny hooks having worked through his clothing to penetrate his skin so that cloak could not be removed without taking the skin as well. Worse, once the hooks had anchored in his skin, they'd left the tiny, countless holes necessary for the acid to find its way into his body. It was burning, now, eating through his skin to the muscle beneath.

"Iolaus! Please," he cried, shaking in torment, unable to think past the pain, "Help me! It's burning me!"

"Burning!" Iolaus whispered in stunned horror. Gods, what could he do? He pulled again at the cloak, unable to understand why he couldn't just fling it off his friend, but Hercules yelled at the assault, pulling away so hard that Iolaus had to stagger for balance.

"It's...it's grown into my skin," Herc moaned, gritting his teeth, trying desperately not to scream in helpless torment. "I can't get it off! Gods! It's eating me alive!"

Frantic, not knowing what else to do, desperate to find some way to put out whatever fire was torturing his friend, Iolaus scooped up his sack, dumping it out as he ran to the lake and filled it with the cold water, racing back to pour it over Hercules. And again. And again.

But, it wasn't working. Herc writhed on the ground, anguished keening wails searing past his throat, until he would lose control and scream at the agony. Each time a scream broke loose, it took every ounce of his strength, of his control, to choke back a continous shriek of torment. He'd never known such pain, never imagined it could ever exist.

Iolaus held him by the shoulders, never having felt so helpless, or so desperate in his life. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to help. Gods, it was a nightmare.

Finally, desperate, Hercules rolled himself over and over toward the pool, Iolaus helping, once he understood, to ease him into the water. But, the cold only seemed to fuel the fire, and Herc cried out again in agony, deep, gutteral screams he couldn't control.

Terrified, digging his heels into the bank, Iolaus exerted all of his strength to drag Hercules back out of the water. Collapsing with Hercules on top of him, he squirmed until he could wrap his arms around his friend's shoulders, holding him.

"I don't know what to do, Herc. Gods, I don't know what to do," he sobbed, feeling the waves of pain shuddering through his friend's body, helpless to stop it.

Hercules laid back against Iolaus, weeping from the pain, his head curled under his friend's jaw. The cloak was eating through his muscle, to bone, eating him alive, like acid.

He was dying, he knew it, burned by an insidious fire.

And there was nothing either of them could do to stop it.

"ZEUS!" Iolaus screamed over the horrible keening from Hercules. "Gods, ZEUS! PLEASE!" Hugging Herc as tightly as he could, he shuddered with his sobs. "Hercules!" he moaned, knowing it, whatever 'it' was, was killing his friend and he couldn't stop it. "Oh gods, Hercules."

"No use," Herc gritted through clenched teeth. "Nothing...you can do."

"Noooo!" Iolaus cried. "Herc, you can't die...."

"Iolaus...I can't stand it! Help me," his best friend begged, "help me end it."

Iolaus shook his head, then laid his cheek against Herc's hair, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't do this. He couldn't.

Beyond his own agony, Hercules could feel Iolaus' shudders of grief and denial. Bad as it was, beyond endurance, he couldn't ask Iolaus to kill him, even in mercy. Gods, there had to be a way to make it stop! There had to be some way he could end it himself. If he could have moved his arms enough, he'd have demanded the knife he knew Iolaus carried. But, he couldn't...his arms and hands had lost their capacity to move to his throat.

"Please, Iolaus," Hercules gasped, begging, tears blinding his eyes and staining his cheeks, "build a pyre...." It was the only thing he could think of. He could light the pyre himself, so that Iolaus wouldn't have to do it, wouldn't have to be the one to end his life. All he needed was wood, and a lighted torch in his hand.

When Iolaus still hesitated, Herc screamed again, "HELP ME!" and, again, with hoarse desperation, "STOP THIS!"

Sobbing, Iolaus carefully laid Herc back onto the ground and stumbled to his feet. Scarcely able to see for the tears which filled his eyes to overflowing, he gathered wood, piling it in the clearing next to their camp, not far from where Herc was writhing on the ground. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He prayed to wake up, prayed to find it was all a horrible dream.

But, Herc's moans, and keening wails, told him it was all too real.

Gods, who had done this? Why?

"Hurry!" urged Hercules, his voice a gutteral growl. He didn't want to think about what was happening under the cloak, didn't want to think of a body ravaged by the fire that now gnawed at his bones. The agony was so great, he could scarcely think at all. He just wanted it to end.

Iolaus staggered back, and bent to lift his friend's shoulders, then dragged Hercules backwards, toward the pyre of wood he had built. Finally, at the low pyre, he hauled Herc over and onto the wooden sticks and branches, then covered his friend's body with his own cloak, an unconscious, pitiful gesture of protection, leaving only his best friend's face open to the air before he piled more wood around his friend's body.

Herc nodded, his eyes pressed tight shut, his jaw clenched as he tried to endure these last moments before he could be released from the horror.

Iolaus stumbled back to their fire, and thrust in a dry shaft of wood, to create a torch. Once it was burning well, he carried it back and stood by the pyre, his hand trembling. He couldn't do this, oh gods, he couldn't....

"I can't," he sobbed, knowing he was letting Hercules down. "Herc, I can't do this!"

Hercules shuddered. "Give me...the torch," he growled, scarcely able to speak any longer, the pain was so all consuming. The fingers of his left hand twitched, eager for the torch. "Put it into...my hand," he groaned.

Shaking his head, wanting to refuse, but knowing he had to do this for Hercules, Iolaus leaned down, putting the torch into his friend's trembling fingers, but Herc couldn't hold it. He no longer had the strength, and the torch just dropped from his nerveless hand, rolling down and away, the pyre not catching.

"Iolaus, please," he moaned, desperate for release, driven past his sorrow at making this last demand by an all consuming desire for death, for anything which would bring peace, "please, help me...."

Iolaus turned his head away, every fibre of his being shrieking against this abomination, against the Fates that had brought them to this. He shuddered in grief and hopeless despair, his heart shredded in helpless agony, when Hercules screamed again, unable to hold out against the blistering, festering acid which burned deep within him.

He had to do it. For Herc. To end a hopeless, hideous torment. He had to do this.

Stiffening, he turned back, like a man in a trance, his movements awkward and tight.

Bending to retrieve the torch, Iolaus fell to his knees by the pyre. Reaching out with his hand, he touched his best friend's face gently, with infinite love. Then he bent and kissed Herc's forehead. "Be at peace, Hercules," he whispered through his tears, as he shoved the torch into the pyre.

"I love you, Herc..." he choked, "Oh gods, Herc...forgive me...."

His hand slipped back and grasped the knife they had made together so long ago, then, holding his breath, choking back his own scream of anguish at what he had to do, he pulled the weapon around in one smooth motion and plunged the blade down through the cloaks covering Hercules, deep into his best friend's heart, silencing the screams.

Ending the torment.

Herc's eyes held a moment's awareness of peace and aching gratitude before they clouded, emptied of the spirit which had lit Iolaus' life.

The wood was dry and caught fast, the flames leaping up, lighting the night. Iolaus fell back, away from the heat. Rocking on his knees, one hand over his mouth, and the other curled around his body, the bloody knife still clenched in his hand, he sobbed his friend's name, over and over, watching the flames curl around Hercules' body, consuming it.

"NOOOOO!!!!!" Iolaus screamed, curling over, in on himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his body.

"NNNOOOOOOO!!!!" his cries echoed up to the skies, mindless with a grief which stripped all other emotion from his heart, leaving his soul in tattered shreds.

He didn't see Zeus come for Hercules' soul. Didn't see his best friend's spirit rise from the pyre, a golden image of light beside his father.

Iolaus was only mortal.

He couldn't see gods.

* * *

He was curled, trembling, on the ground, in the cold light of the dawn, staring past the knife still clenched in his hand, at the blazing pyre.

Hercules was dead. Gone. He couldn't get past it. His mind shocked by a horror he couldn't accept, oblivious to everything but the flames, he didn't hear her approach.

"Why?" The thought played over and over endlessly in his mind. "Why did this have to happen? Why?"

Then, even that thought was banished, and all he could whisper was his friend's name, "Hercules. Oh, Hercules...."

In her arrogance, she had come alone, to lurk in the shadows of the forest and watch all that transpired. Now, she stood but a few feet away, glorying in her victory. It had been all she'd imagined, better than she'd hoped for. It hadn't been part of her plan that it should be his hand which had finally killed his friend. She'd known the acid would do the evil deed, given sufficient time. But, this was better, much better. She'd revelled in every moment of it, as she'd watched from the shadows.

Finally, unable to contain her evil delight and satisfaction at such a perfect revenge, she laughed.

Iolaus jerked, shocked by the harsh, cruel sound. Looking up, he saw her, and lurched to his feet, shaking his head, not wanting to believe his eyes. Knowing it was true. Knowing the witch had done this.

"Medea," he grated. He'd hoped never to see her twisted beauty again. Hoped she was burning somewhere in Tarturus, burning forever.

But no, she was alive. She was here.

"Yes, Iolaus, Medea. Medea who you betrayed with your lies. Medea whose son you stole away to give to his worthless, faithless father. Medea," she said harshly walking toward him. "Medea who has made you pay with the life of the one you loved best. Your acts against me earned his death."

Iolaus looked from her to the pyre, and understood. Herc had died to serve her vengeful, evil soul. She'd killed him, with forethought and malice. She'd chosen to torture Hercules until he'd wished only to die.

And why?

Because Iolaus had rescued her child, rescued him from a certain and terrible death at her hands. Medea was evil incarnate, mad with soulless desires to murder and destroy.

She'd killed Hercules. The best man Greece had ever known. She'd killed him...and she was laughing with frightful glee at her hideous act.

Laughing.

Without conscious thought, Iolaus whipped up the knife he'd clenched unwittingly throughout the past hour and threw it at her, all in one smooth, cold motion. The blade buried itself in the centre of her twisted black heart.

She staggered, gasped, then with her last breath, still laughing in triumph, she cursed him with the truth, with the hateful, empty future.

"You can kill me, Iolaus," she whispered venomously, "but it will never bring him back. By your hand, he is dead."

Then, she collapsed to the ground, her staring eyes continuing to taunt him until the insane light in them faded away.

"I should have killed you years ago," he rasped, with no vestige of guilt. It was an execution, plain and simple. He'd done the world a favour by taking her out of it, his only regret was a pain he'd live with for the rest of his life.

If he had killed her years before, Herc would still be alive.

'Why?' he'd wondered for hours. Now he knew.

Because of him. Because of his act so long ago.

Hercules' life was the price she'd chosen for retribution.

Then he turned away from her body, falling to his knees facing the remains of the pyre.

"I'm sorry, Herc," he wept. "Gods...I'm sorry."

* * *

He sat there until the flames turned to ash, and the ash cooled, thinking, remembering, weeping. It was over. Hercules was gone. The sun crossed the sky and sank into the west, the shadows gathering around him, and still he sat, oblivious to the chill. Oblivious to everything but the grief and sorrow which consumed him.

Hercules.

Finally, he stood, a man stunned, lost and alone, aching with the realization of all that must be done, one step at a time. He had to gather what was left of Hercules for a memorial...the very word made him flinch with the memory of the stone obelisk Herc had once carved for him. He'd hoped he'd never have to know that pain, bear that loss, that inescapable, final parting from his best friend. The loss of a life which had always meant more than his own. He'd thought they'd have years...that he would go first. Had thought that was inevitable, despite the scattered visions in the moments after he'd been hit by lightning. But, Herc had gone in flames, so he guessed absently, irrelevantly, that someday people would fly in large metal birds.

Staggering a little in his dazed state, he found a wide piece of bark to use as a tool to scrape the ashes into a pile. Then, he bent to get his sack, intending to place Herc's ashes within it. But, when he stood and turned back to the burned remains, a sudden wind blew up from nowhere, catching at the ashes and lifting them, bearing them away from him.

"No!" he protested, running a few steps, his hands up to capture all that was left of his friend, but he faltered, stumbled, realizing there was no way he could catch them back. He bent his head, tears on his cheeks, standing helpless to hold even this last mournful bit of what Hercules had been.

The wind swirled the ashes up and off the mountain, blowing them across the great span of Greece. Hercules had been the greatest hero Greece would ever know. Let the mortals build shrines, temples and statues in remembrance of him. Throughout his life, he'd loved the land and its people, and it was in remembrance of his love for them, that a Goddess had decided his ashes should cover their land, forever.

But, Iolaus couldn't know that.

He could only know there was nothing left of the man who had meant more to him than life itself. In the gathering dark, he stumbled to the place where the ashes had been, laying his hands upon the cooling, blackened ground. It was with surprise that he felt something solid there. Frowning, he dug a little and pulled up one of Herc's gauntlets. Made by Hephaestus to honour the strength of the arms which had borne them, they were indestructible. Iolaus dug for the other, and finding it, held them both to his heart, his head bent as he cradled them to him, wishing he could once again hug Hercules, tell him how much he had meant to Iolaus, say all those things which had always been in his heart.

"I love you, Hercules," he whispered, his voice ragged, "You know that...you always knew that. But, gods, Herc, I don't know how I'm going to make it without you."

Somehow, he found himself sitting by the pool in the light of a new dawn. He didn't know when he'd retrieved the knife from Medea's sprawled body. He didn't remember wiping her foul blood from it's edge. He just knew he was holding it now, remembering the day it had been made. Remembering how it's use had been perverted during his battle with Herc over Xena, and he wondered again at his betrayal. Felt the shame of it, the guilt and grief.

'This knife was never made to take your life....' He remembered saying that, as he lay in the dusty yard where they had battled...and he wept again at the cruel, bitter irony of the Fates.

He let the blade slide against the edge of his neck, and thought it would be so easy. So easy to just give up now. What was the point, anyway, without Hercules? What did his life matter? But, his face crumpled, and his chest heaved with the sobs he tried to trap there. He couldn't. Couldn't face Herc on the Other Side if he took the coward's way out. He had to go on. Not for himself, but for Herc.

Because Hercules had always believed in him, and even now, he couldn't let Herc down.

He looked out across the pool, glimmering peacefully in the sun's early light. They'd always loved this place. Herc had said he wished they'd never have to leave it. "Oh, Hercules," he whispered, laying his head back against the rock behind him, closing his eyes. Wishing he could as easily shut out the pain.

He was alone. Alone as he had never been, not since that day he'd spotted the shy, gawky kid across the school yard, being tormented by older bullies, trying as Iolaus had not known then, not to hurt them with his strength. But, Iolaus had gotten to know that strength, and not just the strength of the body. But, of the heart, and of the soul. Strength he'd never known before and would never know again. He was alone, but he didn't grieve for himself. He grieved for all the people who had loved Hercules and who would never see him again. And he grieved for those who would need his friend's strength, only to learn that he was gone, no longer there to stand between them and what threatened them. No longer there.

Gone.

Finally, in exhaustion, Iolaus slept, the knife set aside, the gauntlets again cradled in his arms. He slept, by the edge of the pool in the place they had loved so well....the place Herc had said he wished he'd never have to leave.

* * *

It was another two days before Iolaus could bring himself to leave, to face the world, but he knew he had to go. He set off back down the mountain, avoiding the village, the pathways, and the roads lower down. He kept to the trees, unable to face anyone yet. His first duty was to go to Iphicles, and tell him what had happened. And, then, he'd tell Jason.

But, he'd never tell either of them who had done this. No one would ever know. Long before, in the years when Jason and Medea had first married, they'd come to the pool with Hercules and Iolaus, and later, they'd brought their children. It was how she'd known to find them here. However she'd managed the matter of the cloaks, she'd known they would come, and she had been waiting.

They'd all been friends then, in those faraway days. But, Medea had gone mad, and finally, her madness had driven Jason away. Iolaus knew he could never tell Jason that Medea had done this, or why. She had tortured Jason enough in years past. She'd used the same stuff to kill their children, and the woman Jason had come to love. He didn't need to know she'd killed Hercules, too, as the price for Iolaus having rescued his last child, and for bringing that child home to him.

Iphicles first, and then, Jason. After that, he didn't know what he'd do.

He felt guilty even thinking about the rest of his life.

* * *

"Iolaus."

The voice drew him from the depths of his exhausted slumber. He'd been traveling for three days, and was now only one day away from Corinth. Unable to go further, he'd collapsed where he found himself, deep in a forest. He'd gathered the twigs which lay close to hand, and built a small fire. He'd not eaten since Herc had died, wasn't hungry, and had lost track of the days, knowing only that it had been a week or more. It didn't matter, nothing mattered. He'd just curled on his side and fallen into a dreamless sleep.

"Hmm?" he murmured, still more than half asleep.

"Iolaus, wake up."

"Nnnuggghhh," he muttered, resisting. "It's late...."

"Come on, Iolaus, I need to talk to you," the familiar voice demanded, drawing him further away from sleep.

"Alright, Herc, alright," he mumbled, then froze. Hercules?

His eyes flew open and he pushed himself up from the ground. "Hercules?" he whispered, his eyes wide and then his face lit with a smile of infinite happiness, "Herc! You're back!" he cried.

"Not exactly," Hercules replied, with a troubled frown.

It was then that Iolaus noticed that his buddy didn't seem quite substantial, that he shimmered a little in the light of the fire. Confusion filled his face. "I don't understand...did you slip past Hades or what?" he asked softly, sitting back, renewed sorrow filling his eyes.

Hercules shook his head. "No," he replied with a sheepish look. "I'm not dead, well, not exactly...."

Iolaus shook his head, and rubbed his eyes, beginning to think he was still really asleep. He'd wanted to see Herc again so badly, his mind was playing tricks on him, filling his dreams with what could never be.

Hercules saw the confusion, the doubt and the pain it brought, to the gaunt, weary features of his friend, and he hastened to explain softly, "Iolaus, just as I was dying, Zeus came for me. My mortal half is gone, burned away. But, the other half is a god," Hercules explained, watching his buddy's face, watching Iolaus struggle to understand.

"A god?" Iolaus repeated. "You're a god?"

Herc nodded, glumly, "'Fraid so."

"You're kidding," Iolaus murmured, feeling joy build within him. Herc wasn't dead after all! A grin broke across his face. "A god," he breathed.

Hercules threw him a chagrined look, and shook his head. "I'm not sure this is such a good thing..." he muttered, looking away from the relief and delight on Iolaus' face.

"How can you say that?" Iolaus protested. "Of course, it's a good thing! It's great! Herc, you're not dead!" His voice cracked on the last word, and unbidden tears filled his eyes, testament to the grief and sorrow he'd borne. "Oh gods, Herc," he whispered, "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

Hercules' eyes came back, to see Iolaus stumbling to his feet, awkward in his eagerness. "Can I...can I touch you?" Iolaus asked, hesitating.

Herc stood then, too, holding out his arms, and Iolaus charged into them, hugging his buddy as if his very life depended upon it. Sobbing. Herc's arms came around his best friend, to hold him close, his own eyes glimmering with tears. "Easy, Iolaus...it's alright," he murmured.

Finally, Iolaus sniffed, and pulled himself back, embarrassed as he wiped a hand over his face. "I...sorry. I didn't mean to fall apart. It's just that..." he had to stop, and swallow, had to catch his breath. Sniffing again, he looked up at his friend. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, caught between heartbreaking joy to see Herc and an aching hurt that his friend had let him suffer so long not knowing.

"I did!" Hercules protested, not understanding. "I came right away!"

Iolaus gazed at him wordlessly, then, "Right away? Herc, it's been a week...."

"What?" Hercules replied, shocked. "A week? No, it can't have been...."

"Trust me, buddy," Iolaus replied, wearily. "And every day of it was endless."

Herc studied Iolaus, saw his gray pallor and dishevellment, looked around and realized they were no longer at the pool. "But...gods, Iolaus...a week?" he answered, his tone lost.

"Yeah, hey, it's okay. I know time isn't the same when you're measuring forever. It's okay, really, I'm just so damned glad to see you," Iolaus hastened to reassure his friend, realizing Herc hadn't meant to hurt him, hadn't left him grieving hopelessly.

"I'm sorry," Hercules replied, laying a hand on his buddy's shoulder, remembering what he'd gone through when he'd thought he had lost Iolaus to Dahok, and when he'd known he'd lost him to the Light. "I didn't realize...."

"I know," Iolaus replied softly, letting it go. What did it matter, HERC WAS ALIVE! His grin again capturing his face, he waved at the ground, "Sit down, Herc...you can stay, right? You're not just dropping by?" he asked, caught by a new, sudden fear.

Hercules shook his head, but didn't reply. However, he did sit down, and looked like he was going to stay a while, at least. Waiting until Iolaus had dropped down beside him, Herc explained, "I wanted to let you know...to talk about what it means...."

Iolaus bit his lip, holding back a moan at the words. Hercules had become a god before, and although he'd seen him briefly once afterward, he'd quickly come to understand his fears at the time were true. Herc had had another existence on Olympus, one that didn't include their partnership. Looking away to hide the pain in his eyes, he figured it was going to be the same thing all over again. Sighing, he thought that at least it was better than believing Hercules was dead. A lot better.

Hercules had paused, noticing Iolaus' reaction, wondering how to explain. "Iolaus, please...just listen for a minute, okay? This isn't easy...."

Iolaus nodded and looked back. "I understand, Herc...or, at least, I think I do. You can't stay."

Herc looked away, his face drawn. "Iolaus, my mortal half died. I'm not the same person. I'm one of 'them'," he muttered, the disgust in his tone all too evident.

"You say that like it's a bad thing, Hercules," Iolaus replied, a hint of laughter in his voice, only to have Hercules whirl on him.

"It is a bad thing!" Herc exclaimed. "You know what they're like, only worried about themselves, petty, spoiled, self-absorbed! Even the best of them can't be counted on, not unless there's something in it for them. Gods, Iolaus, I hate being like that!"

Iolaus gave Hercules a quizzical smile, protesting, "But, you're not like that, you'll never be like them."

"But, that's the point, Iolaus...I'm exactly like them now. And that means I'm dangerous." He reached out to grab Iolaus' shoulder, to make him understand how scared he was, only to have Iolaus wince from the sharp pain, try to pull away. Hercules jerked his hand away, horrified.

"Oww!" complained Iolaus, loudly, rubbing his shoulder. "What was that for?" he demanded, indignant, until he registered the horrified look on Herc's face.

"Gods, I might even hurt you!" Hercules cried, turning away, standing, only to have Iolaus jump up and grab him.

"Herc, wait, I'm okay! What just happened?" Iolaus demanded, uncertain and very worried.

Hercules looked down at the ground. "I told you. I'm different!" He turned back to face Iolaus, his face drawn with sorrow. "It was the mortal part of me, Iolaus...that cared if I hurt anyone, that remembered to pull back. It doesn't even occur to me now! I've lost it! I've lost who I was!"

"Wait! Hold it!" Iolaus said, holding up his hands. They both needed to calm down and figure this out. "Herc, I can't believe that. If you didn't care, you wouldn't have come back to tell me that you're, well, that you're not dead. You wouldn't feel bad about hurting me and you sure wouldn't feel bad about not being able to feel bad. C'mon, Herc...we can work this out."

Desperate to hope this was true, Hercules dropped back down on the ground, "How?" he asked.

"Like I've got all the answers all of a sudden? You were the brains of this partnership, Hercules, remember?" Iolaus shot back, exasperated. How was he supposed to know what being an Olympian god was like?

Hercules snorted, "Yeah, right...don't pull the 'dumb blond' act on me, Iolaus. It won't wash."

Iolaus blew his breath out of puffed cheeks. "Right, well, okay. First off, let's agree on a few things. You are Hercules. You are the Hercules who has always been my best friend." He held his hand up when Hercules started to protest, "Just listen! So, you might have changed a little...not surprising, considering the circumstances. But, Herc, the very fact this bothers you so much means you still care, that it still matters to you. If you were all that indifferent...."

But, even as he said the words, Iolaus understood. It bothered Hercules, it mattered to him, because it was about him. He'd come back, not to ease Iolaus' grief, but because he needed to talk about being a god, and what it meant to him.

Hercules saw the troubled awareness in Iolaus' eyes and he squared his jaw. "Now, you're starting to get it," he said bitterly.

Iolaus narrowed his eyes. Shook his head. "No, no I don't buy it, Herc. Let's look at it another way. Why does it bother you so much that you don't have your mortal part left?"

Hercules stared at him, then looked away, considering the question. "Because it's not right to not care," he finally said, his voice angry.

"Sooo...you want to care, right? If you were like the others, it wouldn't matter to you. Like Ares, you'd shrug it off, or 'Dite, you'd just get distracted by another interest. But, you do care. If you didn't, you wouldn't."

Hercules frowned at this bit of circular logic, biting his lip. "But, it's hard, Iolaus." He looked up into the night sky. "A while ago, you made a crack about measuring eternity. And that's what it's about. When you live forever, it changes your perspective. Mortals get born, live, die. Struggle, but die anyway. I can't save them. I can't save you...."

"So, mortal life becomes irrelevant, something not to be cared about?" Iolaus asked, pushing.

"Maybe, I guess...I haven't been a god long enough to know for sure. But, I think that's what probably happens," Hercules replied softly.

"So, it won't matter to you on the day I finally die," Iolaus said, just as softly, as if it hurt, still pushing.

Herc's head flashed up and he looked into Iolaus' eyes. "Don't!" he protested, "don't ever think that!"

Iolaus smiled as he laid a hand on his friend's quivering shoulder. "You see, you do care about something more than yourself. And, I don't mean the fact that you'll hurt when I die...I mean that you care that I know that. Because you care about me, what I feel. You're not like them, Herc. You never will be."

Hercules laid a gentle hand over that of his partner's, careful not to squeeze too hard. "Not so long as I have you...but...."

"No 'buts', Herc. If you can care about one mortal, you can care about others. What about Iph and Jason?" Iolaus challenged.

"I...well, yeah, I guess...." Hercules said, his shoulders losing some of their tension.

"You see? It was just the shock. You never did like being a god, Herc. You'll just have to get used to it," Iolaus reassured his friend.

"But...I can't trust myself, Iolaus. I can't trust my strength, or what might happen if I got angry. I can shoot fireballs now!" Herc said, still horrified by his new being.

Iolaus just grinned, as irrepressible as ever. "Really? Cool! That'll be a big help the next time we come up against a monster!"

Hercules grinned and chuckled despite himself. But, then his face grew solemn again. "Iolaus, I don't want anyone else to know, yet...not even Iph or Jason. I need time, time to know if I can be trusted."

"Aw, Herc..." Iolaus protested.

"Please...I need time," Hercules insisted.

His buddy looked at him for a long moment. Time? How much time? If a week was a moment, then how long would a month or year be in forever time. Herc might disappear to stew over this and Iolaus would be dead of old age before it occurred to him to come back. He swallowed, understanding this would never be as easy as he had hoped.

Finally, he replied, "Okay, buddy. But, I've got a few conditions. I have to tell Iph and Jason you're not really dead...I'll explain, I promise," he added hastily, seeing the protest in Herc's eyes, "but, they deserve not to suffer needless grief, Herc. Also, if you want to somehow stay in touch, then, well, we need to figure out how to remind you that it's time to visit again. Otherwise, years could go by...."

Herc's eyes clouded with the awareness that Iolaus was right. He couldn't be trusted, not even to tell the passing of time. Looking away, he slumped, discouraged. "I can't let that happen," he whispered. "I can't lose the years of your life..."

"Hey, Herc, it'll be okay. If necessary, I'll just shout until you hear me. We'll work it out, buddy, you'll see," Iolaus promised, wishing he was sure of that. He didn't want Herc to miss the years of his life either... 'cause that would mean he'd never see his best friend again. And he couldn't stand that thought. Wouldn't even consider it, not now, not now that he had Herc back. God, demigod...who cared? He was Hercules.

Hercules sat a long time, thinking about how they could make sure he didn't let time slip away, knowing he had to leave, that he couldn't trust himself enough to stay. He was really afraid he'd hurt someone in anger, or worse, just because he didn't notice what he was doing. "I'll ask 'Dite for ideas, and Heph. They must have a way of keeping track of mortal time," he said quietly.

"Good, then that's settled. Just make sure you don't forget to visit," Iolaus said, trying to sound like it was okay that Herc didn't intend to stay. Trying to give his friend the space he had asked for, even though it was one of the hardest things he'd had to do. Gods, he'd miss having the big lug around every day...but, at least this time, he'd know he'd see him again...sometime.

Hercules had turned to look at him. "Forget? You? No, never. Iolaus, you still don't get it...I couldn't forget, even if I wanted to, which I don't. You were always the best part of me, the part that kept me human, that pulled me back when I lost it...you are my mortal half now. The only part of my humanity that I have left. I need you, Iolaus, more than I ever needed you before. Gods, just don't give up on me!"

Taken aback by the confession, Iolaus couldn't speak for a moment. But then the final plea sunk in. "Give up on you, Herc? Not so long as I live and breathe...and not even then. You get out of line and I swear, I'll come back from the Other Side and haunt you!"

He'd said it seriously, but then he convulsed in giggles at the thought. Gasping, he said, "Can't you just imagine Hades' reaction to that! Not to mention the rest of your relatives, who would only be too pleased to see the last of me? Do they have ghosts haunting them on Olympus?" He rolled over, picturing himself haunting Hera, and roared with laughter.

Unable to restrain himself, glad he was unable to resist, Hercules laughed with him.

Gods, he loved this guy. He always would.

Forever.

* * *

Much as Iolaus wanted to stay awake, the trial of the past week had left him utterly exhausted and his body fought to sleep. He shifted frequently, stretched, stood, sat back down, his body aching with its need. But, his heart was afraid if he slept, Hercules wouldn't be there when he woke up...and he'd find out this was really only a dream after all.

Herc watched him, gradually realizing the problem. Smiling slowly, he said, "You have to sleep, Iolaus. You're exhausted."

"Nah, I'm fine," Iolaus protested, stretching again, stifling a yawn.

"No, you're not fine. You've been through Tarturus, my friend. And you won't be any help to me, or yourself, if you collapse. Go to sleep. It's alright, I'll be here when you wake up," Hercules reassured him.

Iolaus looked away from him, down into the flames. "I'm afraid," he whispered.

"Don't be," Hercules replied, his voice warm and sure, just as Iolaus always remembered it being when he most needed support and reassurance. "I'll be here, I promise."

"Maybe I'll just lie down," Iolaus temporized, but his treacherous body carried him off to sleep almost as soon as his head hit the ground. Herc watched through the rest of the night, watched the face he loved so well, relaxed and innocent in sleep. He sighed, and blinked back tears. He didn't want to ever leave. Iolaus was the last, and the best loved, of all the mortals in his life. All he wanted was to return to the life they had been living, doing their best to make a difference. Backing one another up, no matter what.

But, he couldn't. Not yet, at least. Maybe not ever.

He hated this. What good was being a god if you couldn't be who and what you wanted to be. If you couldn't be with the only one who mattered any more.... He had to find his way, had to work out how to get back. Somehow. Someday.

* * *

Iolaus heard the early birds greeting the dawn. He lay a moment with his eyes closed, listening to the world wake, pushing the shadows of sleep from his mind. Then his eyes flashed open. Hercules! Terribly afraid it had all been only a dream, he rolled, his eyes raking the campsite.

True to his word, Herc was still there, sitting on the other side of the fire, his arms clasped over his upraised knees. He smiled, understanding the desperate hope in Iolaus' eyes, warmed by it. "I'm still here," he said quietly.

Iolaus sagged back against the earth, closing his eyes, "Thank you," he murmured, then rolled over and up with a smile that lit the day. It was then he noticed the rabbit roasting on a spit. He cocked an eyebrow at Hercules, thinking this must be a first. Herc actually preparing a rabbit for breakfast!

"You look like you haven't eaten for a week," Hercules explained, a look of concern shadowing his eyes.

"I haven't!" Iolaus confessed, suddenly famished. He reached out and took the meat from the fire, licking fingers singed in his eagerness. "You want some?" he asked.

"No, thanks...you go ahead," Herc responded.

"Right, I forgot, gods don't get hungry do they?" Iolaus replied, his eyes teasing as he took a bite.

Shaking his head, Hercules looked away, thinking it was only one of the many things that now made them different. "'S'okay, so long as you'll still cook!" Iolaus mumbled around a mouthful, trying to pull Herc back from his suddenly sad, introspective state.

Grinning, Herc turned back to him, "It's a deal," he affirmed.

Iolaus nodded and finished up the rabbit, rubbing his hands on his pants, as he stood to kick out the fire. "So, what do you want to do today, Herc?" he asked, reaching for normalcy, pretending to himself, if only for a moment, that their lives together could just go on.

"I'll walk with you as far as Corinth," Hercules told him. "I know you have to tell Iph what happened."

Iolaus nodded glumly, thinking he'd have preferred going after a monster. But, there was no point in putting it off. Herc wasn't dead, but the truth was, he wasn't alive anymore either. Iph, and Jason, needed to know that. Bending, he picked up his pack, and they set off along the road.

They'd walked for a few minutes in companionable silence when Hercules said quietly, "Thank you, for what you did...."

Iolaus stopped, his feet wide apart, his hands on his hips, head down. Biting his lip, he finally responded, his voice little more than a whisper, "I didn't want to...but there was nothing else I could do for you at that moment." He remembered the knife in his hand, the clouded eyes. His voice faraway, brittle, he continued, "You'd suffered enough, Herc...I couldn't let you suffer asphyxiation from the smoke, too...."

Hercules moved to stand beside his friend, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, "I know...and I was very grateful. I wish I could have told you...."

Iolaus shrugged off the hand and moved away. It was a moment he'd spend the rest of his life trying to block out of his memory, a moment which would haunt his nightmares until he died. He didn't want to talk about it.

Understanding, Hercules moved the conversation along. "When Zeus came, I argued until I was blue in the face, demanding he send me back. But, he just mumbled it had been a mortal matter, not an act of any god and he kept going on and on about his damned rules. I tried, Iolaus...I tried to get him to send me back. Until I finally gave up and, well, that's when I woke you up." Herc shook his head, still trying to grasp that those few moments had taken a week of Iolaus' life.

Iolaus had stopped walking, standing frozen on the road ahead. Then, he turned, his eyes haunted. "Then, you don't know...you don't know why...who...."

Realizing this was true, embarrassed to have not even thought about it in his preoccupation with having to accept being a god, Hercules shook his head. "No. Do you?"

Iolaus turned his head away, looking up at the sky. Gods, he didn't think he'd have to tell Hercules...and wasn't even sure he should. But, that was stupid, of course he had to tell him. Gods, it was the reason their lives had changed so completely. He sighed as he looked back at his best friend. "Promise me you won't ever tell Jason," he said.

"Jason? What does he have to do with this?" Hercules asked, mystified.

"You'll see. Promise me," Iolaus insisted.

Hercules nodded, his eyes scanning the countryside around them, "Okay, sure, I promise. What's this all about?"

Iolaus walked back along the road toward Hercules until he stood directly in front of him. "Herc, you remember years ago, when I went after Medea, to bring Jason's son back?"

Hercules smiled ruefully at the memory, "Of course, who could forget? You broke every rule in the book, lied to everyone, including me, to save that kid's life. I think you must be the only person alive who ever took on Medea and won."

"I didn't win," Iolaus said quietly with heavy sorrow, looking away. "She came back to take her revenge. She...did that to you to punish me."

Herc's face reflected his compassion for all he knew this meant to Iolaus. He laid a hand on his buddy's shoulder, but Iolaus again pulled away, brushing a hand across his eyes, averting his face. "I don't want Jason to know. That bitch has hurt him enough...but she won't hurt anyone else ever again. I killed her."

Iolaus moved to walk away, but Herc caught his arm, taking care to not bruise, pulling Iolaus back to face him. "This wasn't your fault, Iolaus. You couldn't know what she'd do...and you had to save the boy."

Iolaus nodded, refusing to meet Hercules' eyes, swallowed. "I know, Herc. But, it was because of what I did..." his voice cracked, and he blinked hard, biting his lip. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his heart breaking.

Herc gathered Iolaus into his arms, holding him tightly, as he said, "You have nothing to be sorry for, my friend. Nothing. You know that. And, she lost, after all. I'm not gone. I'm still here, with you. Part of me always will be."

'But not the way you were,' Iolaus thought, as he hugged Herc back, so grateful to be able to do so, yet so sad that what they'd had, the life they'd known, was over. Finally, he sniffed and pulled back. "Yeah, you're right," he sighed, "I just wish I'd killed her years ago."

Herc's lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed as he looked away across the horizon. He could wish Iolaus had done so, too, but 'might have been's' wouldn't do them any good now. Looping an arm around his friend, he drew him back along the road. "It's past, done. We just have to figure out how to go on from here."

Iolaus nodded. "Well, that means you have to get used to being around mortals again. Get comfortable with your new powers and perceptions. And you have to learn how to tell time!" he said, reaching for practicality and a touch of humour to lighten their mood.

Hercules chuckled giving Iolaus a light shove, and they split apart, walking along the dusty road toward Corinth.

They'd covered several miles, and at least three people had passed them going the other way, a tinker, a farmer with a heavily loaded wagon heading to a market, and a scruffy looking sort, whose eyes slid away when he passed. Somebody guilty about something or looking for trouble somewhere down the road.

Iolaus had noticed something odd. The men had nodded to him, giving cursory greetings as they passed, but they hadn't seemed to include Hercules. He was used to people recognizing his friend, or at least noticing his imposing build. It was almost as if....

"Herc," he asked with a sideways glance, "can anyone else see you? Besides me, I mean?"

"Uh, no," Hercules admitted sheepishly. "I don't want anyone else to know I'm around."

Iolaus rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the air. "Oh great! Just great! So, whenever I'm talking to you, folks'll think I'm crazy!" His point was immediately proven true, when another traveler came around the sharp bend in front of them, giving Iolaus a nervous look and giving him a wide berth, having heard one side of the conversation.

Herc chuckled as Iolaus tried to look innocent and harmless, "So? Folks have always thought you were crazy," he replied, crossing his arms.

Iolaus was watching the peasant carry on along the road, catching a nervous backward look and waving reassuringly. "That's not funny, Herc," he muttered under his breath, aggrieved. 'Gods!' he thought, in exasperation, then caught himself. Gods.

"Iolaus, give me a break! If people see me, they'll wonder why I'm not helping them...." Hercules began.

"Yeah, well, if they can see you, you might have to help them! Would that be so terrible?" Iolaus retorted, irritated.

Herc's arms dropped, fists clenched, his position tense, nostrils flaring, fury filling his eyes at being challenged. He disappeared.

Stricken, Iolaus shouted, "No, Herc, I didn't mean... Come back!" But, he remained alone on the road, and further along, the peasant started to run, putting as much distance as possible between them. "Damn it, Hercules! Get your ass back here!"

Still nothing.

Furious in his own right, Iolaus slammed his pack back over his shoulder, and stomped down the road. He had seen the anger in Herc's eyes, and he knew what it meant. Gods didn't like to be challenged, told what was right. Gods had their own rules. There'd been too much of Ares in those eyes, and Iolaus didn't like it. It never occurred to him that perhaps he should be afraid. Herc wouldn't ever hurt him, that wasn't the issue. No. But, his buddy had to learn that being a god didn't mean he was infallible. And he couldn't just disappear and sulk when he didn't get his own way.

Well, actually, it seemed he could, but that wasn't acceptable.

Waving his arms to punctuate his argument as he stomped along, he called to his friend, "New rule, Herc! You want me to keep you in line, let you know when you're too godlike to be borne, then you don't cut and run when you hear something you don't like! This is lesson one in temper control, my friend. You hear me?"

"I hear you," Hercules acknowledged, popping back into view.

"Yeah? Good," Iolaus responded as if Herc had been there all along, as for all he knew, Hercules had been. "Well, here's another new rule. When you're around, you show yourself to me. I don't ever want to think you're lurking somewhere not letting me see you. Got it?"

"Between you and Zeus, I'll have lots of rules to deal with," Hercules replied tightly. He didn't like being lectured to, but he listened, and he took it, knowing he was grappling with his own new nature.

"Well, you've got eternity to figure them all out," Iolaus snapped back. But, then, he slowed and stopped, stretching his neck to shake off the anger. Turning to Hercules, he said in a more reasonable tone, "I know this is hard...at least, I'm beginning to get an idea. But, Herc, it's hard for me, too. I've never had to watch what I say to you, and I don't plan to start now...not if we're ever going to be able to save something of what we had."

Hercules pushed his own irritation back and sighed. "I don't want you to change how you treat me, Iolaus. That's the whole point. If you start treating me like a god, then I really am lost."

Iolaus shook his head, "Trust me, Herc...I don't intend to ever lose you."

Hercules chanced a grin. "Then, I can assume you'll never treat me like a god?"

"Not likely, Herc...just don't try acting like one around me. You taught me too well. I'm not good at subservience and trembling obeisance," Iolaus grinned back.

Herc laughed outright at that. "I taught you?" he protested. "Iolaus, you haven't got a subservient bone in your body!"

"Just don't you ever forget it!" Iolaus chuckled back. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Herc, would it really be so bad if other people could see you, too? I mean, if you want to reclaim as much as you can of what you've always been, you're gonna have to find a way back sooner or later."

Hercules nodded as he turned to amble along the road with his friend. "I know. But, I really am afraid of just reacting without thought, of hurting someone until I get my bearings. Can't we just take it a step at a time?" he asked, a note of wistful pleading in his voice.

"Yeah, sure, buddy. A step at a time," Iolaus replied, wondering how many steps it would take.

* * *

Herc had left Iolaus at the city gates, with a promise that he'd seek out Aphrodite and Hephaestus, to learn how to be aware of the passing of time in the mortal world, and a promise that he'd be back. Just before he left, Iolaus rummaged in his pack and pulled out the gauntlets, cleaned of the soot, the metal shining under the sun. Herc had manifested in his usual leather clothing, but his arms had been bare.

"Here, I think these belong to you," Iolaus said, trying for a light tone, holding them out.

Hercules took them, holding them carefully. "Thanks, Iolaus," he said, then put one, followed by the other, onto his forearms, Iolaus helping him to buckle them in place, ignoring the mystified glances of those who passed him, heading in or out of the city. Herc laid a hand on his buddy's shoulder, and then he was gone.

When he disappeared, Iolaus had to swallow hard and blink back the stinging in his eyes. He had to get past the fear that everytime Herc disappeared that he'd never see him again. Herc had promised. He'd be back.

Iolaus just wished he knew if it would be the next day, next week or next year. Gods, this was going to be hard to get used to. Squaring his shoulders, he hitched his pack more comfortably on his shoulder, and headed into the city. Well, he'd get used to it. They'd work it out. They always had.

And, hard as it was going to be to give Iph the news, it was better than it might have been.

Iolaus waved at the guards as he passed unchallenged. He was well known as a close friend of the King, and well liked as well. They were a little surprised to see him alone, but shrugged, unconcerned. Hercules would be around somewhere, no doubt off on business of his own.

When Iolaus entered the palace, he went straight to the living quarters. At this time of day, late in the afternoon, he knew Iph would be finished with his official duties. One of the personal servants met him, to take his pack, and offer refreshment.

Iolaus bit his lip. He really wanted to see Iph alone. "The King, is he alone in the salon?" he asked.

The servant replied with a brief nod, "King Iphicles retired there not quite an hour ago."

Iolaus heaved a grateful sigh. "Okay, bring a large amphora of wine to Iph and me...and then, we're not to be disturbed until he calls, alright?"

The servant nodded again, and having learned to curb his curiosity long ago, turned to see about getting the wine and having Iolaus' pack taken to his room.

Iolaus took a breath, then headed for the comfortable living area. Iph looked up, surprised, to see Iolaus. He stood with a smile, his arm out to grasp Iolaus' in welcome. "Iolaus! I wasn't expecting you, come in!"

He led Iolaus to a comfortable chair, then sat down across from him, a low fire burning in the hearth between them. A maidservant entered a moment later, with the wine and two goblets. Leaving them on a table in front of the fire, she left as silently as she had entered.

Iph looked at the wine he hadn't requested, and then studied Iolaus' face, taking in the uncharacteristic silence, and the drawn features. "What's this about, Iolaus? What's going on?" he asked, his voice serious, concerned.

Iolaus stood to pour the wine and handed a goblet to Iphicles. Taking his own, he squatted down beside Iph's chair, looking up at him. Then, laying a gentle hand on Iph's arm, he said, "I've come with bad news, Iph. Not as bad as it might be, but...."

"What are you talking about?" Iphicles demanded, setting the goblet down, beginning to feel alarmed.

"It's about Hercules," Iolaus began.

Iph's eyes flashed from Iolaus to the door, as if he expected his brother to walk in, then back to Iolaus. "He's not with you," Iph said slowly, not wanting to hear this.

"No, I don't know when you'll see him again," Iolaus replied, biting his lip.

"Iolaus! Spit it out! What are you trying to tell me?" Iph demanded, irritated, beginning to feel fear.

Iolaus stood and sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm not doing this well. First, Herc's not gone, not for good, okay? I'll explain...but, just listen. And then we can talk about it."

Iphicles nodded, his eyes glued on Iolaus'. "Not gone?" he repeated dully, anticipating the news.

"No. Hercules is a god, now. He's on Olympus." Start with the good news first.

"A god? I don't understand? Did he choose...?" Iphicles persisted, wanting to know what had happened.

Iolaus shook his head, turning to drop into his own chair. "A week ago, Hercules was poisoned. He died."

When Iphicles gasped, Iolaus hurried on, "But, Zeus took him to Olympus, made him a god, so he's not really dead. He...he doesn't know how to handle it, yet. So, he wants some time before he sees anyone...." Iolaus' voice faded away, letting Iph take it in.

Iphicles sat back in his chair, hands gripping its arms, face pale and drawn. He looked away, letting the shock subside, sorting out the questions in his mind, trying to hold himself under control. Facts. Facts would help.

"Who did this?" he asked, his eyes flaming with a deep anger.

Iolaus shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I took care of it...." he began, but Iph interrupted.

"It doesn't matter? Gods, Iolaus, of course it matters! I'm his brother. I have a right to know!" Iphicles shouted.

"It was someone after revenge. Someone from our past, Herc's and mine. I'm sorry, Iph, I can't tell you more than that, I won't," Iolaus replied steadily, quietly. "There wasn't anything I could do to save him, and the person who hurt him is dead."

Iolaus looked away, not wanting Iph to see the pain in his eyes at the memory of that terrible night. "What matters, Iph, is that Herc isn't dead. Not really."

"But, he doesn't want to see anyone? How do you know that? Did Zeus...?" Iph asked, his voice confused, uncertain. Gods. Hercules. Gone?

When Iolaus didn't answer immediately, Iph turned his gaze on the warrior, feeling a surge of the old jealousy, surprised by it, but unable to deny it. "I see. He told you himself. Hercules. He's willing to see you," he said flatly, almost with a tone of accusation.

Iolaus' brows crept up under the curls on his forehead as he studied the floor, understanding Iphicles' resentment. He'd expected it. "I'm sorry, Iph...."

Iphicles rubbed a hand over his eyes, pushed it back through his hair, feeling...what? Grief? Loss?

"No, Iolaus, I'm sorry," he finally muttered, reaching for the wine goblet and taking a swallow. "Of course he'd show himself to you. You must have seen it all happen, when Zeus came for him."

Taking a swallow of his own wine, unwilling to burden Iph with the horror of those hours, of those endless days, he let Iph believe what he assumed to be the truth. He sat back, looking across at the older man. "I'm truly sorry, Iphicles. I know this is a shock. It's...hard, knowing he's not here anymore."

Iph gazed at him, then pressed his eyes closed, his hand coming up to cover them. Hercules had been killed. He might be a god, but... he wasn't 'here' anymore. His shoulders started to quake, and Iolaus was up and beside him, holding his shoulders, drawing the King's head to his chest, holding him while he cried.

Iolaus blinked hard, trying to hold his own emotions in check. Biting his lip, looking toward the ceiling as he rubbed the other man's back, he whispered, "He loves you, Iph, he always will. He's not gone. He just needs a little time, that's all. You'll see him again...I know you will."

"Gods, Iolaus..." Iphicles choked, "I never thought this would ever happen. I thought he was indestructible."

"Yeah," muttered Iolaus, in response, infinitely sad, "I know."

Everyone had believed Hercules would go on forever. He was a constant in their lives. A tower of strength, never doubted, always there. It seemed incredible that anything could ever take him from them.

"I wish I could have saved him," Iolaus murmured, as Iph began to regain some control. "But there was nothing anyone could have done. But, at least, we can know he still exists. That he's not gone for good."

Iphicles sniffed, pushing himself away, rubbing the tears from his face. "So...he's alright?" he asked, finally.

Iolaus blew out a breath of air. "Well, he's not entirely happy about being a god," he said with a faint grin. "You know how he always felt about that side of his family."

Ruefully, Iph was amazed to find himself chuckling in response, "Yeah, I can see how he'd find that irritating!"

Iolaus chuckled dryly with him, then returned to his own chair. "It'll be alright, Iph. Different, sure. But, it'll be all right."

Iphicles studied the younger man, noticing the gaunt features, the hollowed eyes. There was a lot Iolaus wasn't saying, wasn't telling him. "You're suffering, too, aren't you, Iolaus? Even having seen him?"

"It's going to take a bit of getting used to, Iph. Herc and I were partners for so long...." he responded quietly, unconsciously using the past tense.

Compassion flooded over the sadness in Iphicles' eyes. As hard as the news was to hear, it had to be hardest of all on Iolaus. No one had been closer to Hercules. No one would miss him more. What would Iolaus do without Hercules? Where would he go? "I'm sorry, Iolaus. Are you all right?"

"Me?" Iolaus replied, shrugging and taking a swig of wine. "Sure, I'll be fine. Like I said, it's just going to take a bit of getting used to...."

Iph shook his head, reluctant to push. Iolaus had always hidden the pain away. "Okay, if you say so. But, know this, Iolaus. You are my friend, my brother, too, and if you need it, you have a place here, always."

Iolaus flicked him a grateful smile, understanding all that Iphicles meant. That he had a home, there in the palace. That he wasn't alone. That, if he wanted to talk, Iph would listen. "Thanks. I appreciate that more than you know."

Nodding, Iph leaned back. "So, what do we do now? Do we have a funeral?"

Iolaus stiffened, "No...well, not unless you want to. I can't think of him as dead, Iph. I can't." He paused a moment, then continued. "I don't know what to say...he doesn't want people to know he's a god, not yet at least. And, he'd never want the trappings of a god...though, I expect there'll be temples all over Greece once it becomes known. There's no body...." Iolaus' voice drifted off.

He really didn't want to talk about, or think about, this.

Iph just nodded, understanding. "Well, we don't have to decide tonight. You look tired. And, you look like you haven't eaten for days. Let me call for some food, and then you can turn in, if you want."

Iolaus nodded his acquiessance, and Iph stood and left the room. Gods. A funeral. Temples. It all just made it more real. Herc wasn't dead, not exactly. But, everything had changed. He laid his head back against the chair and closed his eyes.

He could deal with this. He had to.

*He had no choice.

* * *

Iolaus left the palace the next day, after he was sure Iphicles was handling it as well as could be expected. He explained that he wanted to get to Jason, and let him know what had happened. Iphicles understood, and watched the warrior as he set out past the palace gates, wondering where Iolaus got his strength. Gods, he didn't know how he'd handle it in Iolaus' place. His grief had to be overwhelming. And yet, there he went, to carry the news to the other person in their lives who had considered Hercules his best friend, not to mention, son-in-law.

Looking up into the sky, picturing his brother in his mind, Iphicles whispered, "He needs you, you know. Take care of him."

Then, he turned and went back into the palace. They'd agreed not to say anything, not for a few weeks, to give Hercules at least that much time before people learned that he was gone. That he was a god.

He stopped, struck by a thought. What would Iolaus do the next time someone came looking for Hercules, asking for help? Because, there could be little doubt, that would happen sometime very soon. Gods, he'd help, of course.

For a moment, Iph almost sent guards after him, to back him up in case of trouble. But, then he stopped himself. Iolaus wouldn't thank him for the company, nor would he accept the help.

He tried to tell himself that Iolaus could handle himself, wouldn't bite off more than he could chew. But, he knew that wasn't the truth. Iolaus would never back away, never give up if someone needed him.

Iphicles felt cold as a new fear entered his heart.

* * *

Iolaus jogged out of the gates and onto the road heading toward the Academy, a couple of hours walk away. Glancing about, he called softly, "Herc? Herc, are you around?"

Disappointed when there was no answer, he looked up at the sky. "I sure hope you learn how to tell time soon. I was hoping you'd be waiting for me!"

Discouraged by the silence, he trudged along the road.

"You have to get used to this," he mumbled to himself. "He's not going to just hang around at your beck and call, no matter how much even he thinks he might want to. He has a new existence now, and who knows what stuff he'll get involved in up on Olympus. You can't go around feeling bad just 'cause he's not beside you, like he used to be. That's over. Get a grip."

He kicked at a small rock in the road, frustrated, sad, mad at himself for wanting more. "Be grateful that he's not dead. That you will see him again. You're not some crybaby who needs...." his words choked off in a sob. He moved over to a tree beside the road, and leaned against it, rubbing his eyes.

The emptiness of his life an ache that filled his chest, he slumped down onto the ground, his back against the trunk of the oak. "Okay, so you need him. Fine. He'll be around. He's not dead. That's all that matters. You don't own him. Grow up," he told himself, sniffing, disgusted by his lack of control, completely unconscious of the fact that he was hearing his father's voice in his mind.

Iolaus rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. Sitting here wasn't going to make anything better. He had to go on. One step at a time. He pushed himself to his feet and started back along the road.

But, gods, he wished Herc would show up.

* * *

Iolaus arrived at the Academy just after the lunch break, and all the cadets were either in class or working out in the exercise hall. He climbed the steps up into the main building and walked down the hall to Jason's office, dreading every moment of the conversation to come.

He wrapped lightly on the open door, drawing Jason's eyes from the scroll he was reading. "Iolaus! What are you doing here? Don't just stand there! Come in...take a load off your feet. Where's Hercules," Jason finished, glancing past Iolaus' shoulder, the question in his eyes.

Iolaus walked across the floor of the large office, looking around at it, remembering the days when Cheiron had been behind that desk. Gods, it was a long time ago...and yet, it felt like yesterday.

"Herc's not with me," he said, dropping into the chair in front of the desk.

Jason frowned at the tone, not knowing how to read it. "Where is he?"

Iolaus looked up into his old friend's eyes, wishing there was some good way to tell him. Some way that wouldn't hurt. Sighing, he knew there was no such way. He had to get this over with.

"Herc's on Olympus, Jason. He's become a god, for good this time."

"What?" Jason exclaimed, "You can't be serious! What happened?"

"Well, he didn't have a choice," Iolaus sighed, looking away for a moment, then back. "Jason, this is going to be hard to hear, and I'm sorry. But...Herc was killed. Zeus took him to Olympus, to at least save the part of him that is a god."

Jason sat back in his chair, stunned, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. "Killed?" he repeated in shock.

"Yeah," Iolaus said wearily, sitting back. "There wasn't anything either of us could do."

"Why? How?" Jason demanded, still feeling as if this couldn't be real.

"It was an old enemy, someone from our past. I killed...but, it was too late to do anything for Herc." Iolaus rubbed a hand over his face, then gazed at Jason, trying to come back to what really mattered, "I'm sorry, Jase, I know this is a shock. Believe me, I know. But, he's not dead...you'll see him again. I just don't know when."

Jason looked away, trying to take it in. Shaking his head, as if recovering from a physical blow that had dazed him, he looked back at Iolaus. "I can't believe this...."

Iolaus just shook his head, looking down at the floor. Jason stood and came around the desk, taking the chair beside Iolaus, reaching out to grip the other man's arm.

"Tell me what happened," he commanded, in the voice he'd used when he'd been a king.

Iolaus swallowed, and shook his head, avoiding Jason's eyes. "You don't want the details," he murmured in response, remembered tears in his eyes.

Jason's grip tightened. "Yes, Iolaus, I do. Why won't you tell me?"

Iolaus pulled his arm away, then stood to pace the room, his back to the former king. "It was just someone from our past, Jason, Herc's and mine. Someone who wanted revenge. He was...poisoned. It..." Iolaus swallowed convulsively. "Jase, I don't want to talk about it...." he stammered, his voice breaking, remembering the screams of pain. Remembering....

Jason rose to stand behind Iolaus, one hand gripping the smaller man's shoulder. "Iolaus," he said, his voice low, full of sorrow, for both of his friends, "you can't hold it all inside."

Iolaus raised his head to the ceiling, biting his lip, the horror of the memories making him tremble under Jason's hand. "Tell me, Iolaus...."

There wasn't anyone else in the world he could tell, and even Jason couldn't ever know all of it. He didn't want to burden Jason, but he needed... comfort. He'd been concentrating on being strong for Herc, for Iph, for Jason. Denying what it all meant to him, for him. But, he needed comfort, needed it badly.

The words tight in his throat, Iolaus whispered, "He was dying. It was hopeless, nothing we could do to stop it. And, he was in so much pain, Jase...it...he...I had to...." He brought his head down, choking back the sob, shaking with his grief and the memory of what he'd had to do. "He did the same thing once, for me, remember?" he whispered. "How could I do less for him?"

"Oh gods, Iolaus," Jason sighed, tears blurring his eyes, knowing Iolaus was talking about that time he'd been trapped, to be eternally tortured in Hera's temple, when Hercules had given him the only gift he'd had left to give. The gift of peace. He pulled the smaller man around, and hugged him tightly, held Iolaus while they both cried for the pity and pain of it all.

Long moments after, Iolaus pushed himself away, wiping his face, even as Jason brushed the tears from his own eyes and cheeks. Sniffing, Iolaus continued, "He told me Zeus took him from the pyre, the part that was god."

"He told you...you didn't see...?" Jason asked, studying Iolaus, imagining those moments, frowning in sorrow for what he and Hercules had both endured.

Iolaus took a shuddering sigh, moving back to the chair to sit down. "No." Rubbing his face with his hands, then pushing them back through his hair, he continued, "He came back, a few days later. He didn't know time had passed."

Iolaus looked up at Jason with a crooked grin, "It seems time passes differently up on Olympus, Jase...he thought it had only been moments. Anyway, he's some upset at being a god, even if it is better than the alternative. He's afraid he'll lose control, maybe hurt someone in anger."

Iolaus sniffed, then finished, "He, ah, wants time to get used to being a god. Until he trusts himself, he doesn't want to see anyone."

Jason rubbed his shoulder, then moved to sit again in the chair across from him. "Except you, eh?" he said, not resenting it. Glad in fact, that Hercules had not left Iolaus behind to suffer the soulwrenching sorrow of his loss.

"Yeah, except me," Iolaus agreed, trying to smile. "You see, that's why I shouldn't feel so bad. I know he's not dead. That he's okay. It's just that...."

"You don't know what to do without him?" Jason finished quietly, when Iolaus paused, unwilling to admit his feeling of being lost.

"Yeah, I guess," Iolaus admitted reluctantly, looking away.

Jason patted his knee, then stood to get the wine he kept in his desk. Bending to pull out the flask and two mugs, he poured and brought them back around the desk, handing one to Iolaus. "It'd be odd if you didn't miss him, Iolaus. Gods," he said, sinking back into his own chair, "I can't believe this. I can't believe..." He took a healthy swallow of wine. "I'll miss him...everyone will. Gods, the world will miss him. But, Iolaus, you were his partner, you spent almost everyday of the past thirty-five years with him...."

Iolaus nodded wearily. Gods, he was tired. He took another swallow of the wine, feeling its warmth. Needing it. "Yeah, and I'll spend more days with him. Years, if he figures out how to tell time," he wisecracked. 'Herc's not gone. Not really gone,' he reminded himself, holding onto the thought like a lifeline.

He leaned forward. "Sooner or later, we'll have to let people know what happened, you know, Xena, Gabrielle, Sal, Typhon and Echidna...and, if its not too much to ask, I'd appreciate your help in letting them all know...I just can't face going over it again and again. And, like I said, he doesn't want anyone to know, for a while at least. If he can get a handle on the god thing, he wants to be back, at least, he doesn't want to be away all the time. I've told Iph, and we've agreed not to say anything for a few weeks, until we have to because he's been gone too long."

Jason's eyes narrowed as he considered this. "Of course, I'll let the others know in due time, but, in the meantime, how will you explain where he's gone? You know people will ask. There's always some guy, from some village somewhere, looking for help...."

Iolaus shrugged. He hadn't figured that out yet. "I'll think of something. Gods, I'll just say he's away, occupied on other business. Who'll know the difference?"

"And, when that guy inevitably shows up asking for help, what will you do?" Jason asked, knowing the answer, wanting to argue with it.

Iolaus spread his hands. "I'll do what I can, Jason, you know that. What else am I supposed to do?"

What else, indeed. Iolaus would never refuse someone help. "Iolaus, you can't take on warlords and monsters all by yourself," Jason growled.

"Yeah? Well, I can't just turn my back, either. Don't worry, Jason, I'm not the young fool I used to be. I won't take on anything I can't handle...if I need help, I'll send for it," he assured his old friend.

Jason shook his head, but held his tongue. He believed Iolaus would send for help. He just didn't believe he'd wait for it. Iolaus read the look in Jason's eyes, and rolled his own. "Don't worry," he chided the master of the Academy, "I learned how to take care of myself a long time ago."

Jason had to agree with that, and nodded. "All right, Iolaus, I know you're a big boy now. Just, please, look before you leap?"

Iolaus grinned, "I promise."

"Sure you do," Jason said, taking another drink, "and, gods know, it's not like you're impulsive or headstrong or stubborn, or anything like that."

Iolaus chuckled. But, then his face lost its animation. "I miss him, Jason."

"I know," Jason responded quietly. They'd all been so close for so long. He was probably the only one who really knew how much Iolaus would miss the man who had been closer than a brother, the man he'd gladly have died for, given the chance, that Herc might still live.

Jason looked away, around the office. Gods knew, he'd miss Hercules, too. But, he had his own life. He had his work, here at the Academy, he had his children, and he had Lilith.

Hercules had been Iolaus' life.

Looking again at Iolaus, who was lost in his own thoughts, Jason found himself wondering what Iolaus would do now. When Hercules had thought Iolaus was dead, well, he had been dead at that, the demigod had been inconsolable for a long time, seeking only to lose himself somewhere far away. But, after they had defeated Dahok, he'd seemed more able to accept that Iolaus was at peace, in the Light. Still, he had been lost, a part of him gone, struggling to find meaning in a life that had turned to ashes. Privately, they'd all thought Iolaus would handle Herc's loss better, if such an unthinkable thing ever happened.

Well, it had happened. God or not, Hercules was no longer the companion with whom Iolaus shared his life. No longer the friend Iolaus could follow anywhere. Since the tragedy, Jason knew Iolaus had held himself together by focusing on the duties he must perform of seeing himself and Iphicles. But, what now?

"Iolaus," he ventured, "I know its too soon to make decisions, and maybe Hercules will find a way to return, to begin again your lives together...but, if he doesn't, I'd like you to consider staying here."

Iolaus had turned to look at Jason, a slight frown between his brows. "What would I do here?" he asked, puzzled.

"Be an instructor, of course," Jason asserted, as if it was obvious. "You're the best warrior, mortal warrior, I've ever known, the best archer and hunter. These kids could learn a lot from you."

Iolaus smiled, "Well, maybe in the exercise hall, but, in the classroom? Not likely!"

Shaking his head, Jason disagreed, "You could teach them a lot there, too, about tactics...about life. Iolaus, I know you're not the dunderhead you always pretended to be, even if you did excel as the class clown!"

Iolaus laughed, surprising himself. It was the first time he'd laughed, since...well, in a while. "Could you just see the look on Fiduceous' face if he ever saw me teaching a class!" Unable to help himself, he howled at the image.

Laughing with him, Jason replied, "I'd have to invite him back, just to see his reaction. He still lives not far from here. So, would you think about it?"

Iolaus shook his head, trying to imagine it. "All right, I'll think about it. Thanks Jason. It would be a good life. I just don't know what I want to do yet...like you said, it's too soon. I kinda hope, well that Herc'll find a way to, I don't know, make it sorta the same as it was...."

Jason nodded, not needing the explanation. "I know, my friend," he sighed, hoping for Iolaus' sake, as well as Hercules', that the god would find a way down from Olympus to take up life where he'd left off.

But, Jason frowned, thinking that he doubted it would be that easy.

Gods had their own rules.

* * *

Iolaus left the Academy the next morning. Jason had wanted him to stay longer, worried about him, wondering where he was going to go, what he was going to do. He'd reassured Jason that he just needed some time, to travel around, think things through.

But, the truth was, he knew Herc would never appear so long as he was around other people. If he wanted to see his best friend, he had to get away, outside, far from other eyes. More than anything, he wanted to see Hercules again, to be reassured that he was still around. To push away the loneliness that was trying to capture his soul.

So, he set off along the road, then cut across a field, heading into the forest. He hunted, fished, kicked around, ambling in no particular direction. Once, impatient, he'd called out, "So how hard is it to learn how to tell time! Geez, Herc! Where are you?"

But, the forest held only the sounds of whistling birds, chattering squirrels and the rustle of other creatures in the shadows. Iolaus' shoulders sagged. It had been, what, only three or four days. Less than a heartbeat on Olympus.

One morning, lingering by his campfire, he realized he couldn't just hang around like this. He was too restless by nature, too impatient. The hours dragged, the silence mocking his loneliness. Gods, was this all life was going to be? Hanging around like some hermit waiting for a ghost to show up?

He stopped himself at that thought. Herc was not a ghost. He was not dead! But, he wasn't 'here' either. Looking around the silent forest, Iolaus found himself wondering inanely, 'If a tree falls, and no one is there to hear it...does it make a sound? If a man lives, and no one knows it, does it matter?' If he stayed here, lost and alone, hiding from life, he might as well not live at all.

Herc wasn't dead, but Iolaus was burying himself alive, and he knew it.

Iolaus sighed and stood to kick out his campfire. Hitching his pack onto his shoulder, he set out, away from the forest, toward a village he knew wasn't far away. Maybe he could find some work, patching a roof, or in a forge. Pick up some pocket change, and buy himself a decent meal.

After that, well, he didn't know. He just knew it was time to start finding his own path, even if he had to walk it alone.

* * *

When he heard the shouts and screams from the road ahead, he shook his head. 'Everywhere we go! Trouble!' It was an instinctive reaction, without thought. As he'd done countless times in his life before, he was running to help...not even really aware that he was running alone this time.

He charged around the bend, and saw maybe fifteen or so bandits terrorizing a merchant, another already dead on the road beside the wagon, killed by a sword. They were playing with the rich young man, pushing him from one to the other, pulling off rings, and a necklace of silver, fingering his rich clothing, laughing in their cruelty.

Iolaus pulled his sword as he ran, tossing his pack aside, yelling just as he barged into them, his surprise complete. They scattered, lifting their own weapons, the young merchant scrambling for safety under the wagon.

Iolaus had jumped on the back of one outlaw as he'd raced in, knocking the man out, and leaping away, he engaged two others in swordplay, their weapons slashing and clanging as he dodged and spun, making short work of them. Yelling at the merchant to get away, he turned to see three others coming toward him. Dropping and rolling, he knocked them off their feet, spinning up and around to clobber two with the hilt of his sword, then kicked the third, sending them unconscious to the dust.

The young stranger, not needing to be told twice, had scrambled out from the far side of the wagon to run into the forest, desperate to get away with his life, too panicked to even think about the fate of the man who had just saved him.

Iolaus was too occupied to notice or care. There were still too many left standing and he had his work cut out for him. His back to the wagon, but not so close as to inhibit his movements, just to keep his back safe, he fought courageously, taking out two more. Just when they thought they had him cornered, he dropped and rolled again, under the wagon. When they began to charge around it, he rolled back out again, taking out another who had spun back to meet him, while the others, surged back around him, coming from both sides.

Two grabbed his arms, holding him, while a third began to pound on him. They were furious. Who was this pipsqueak to get in their way...to have killed so many alone? They'd teach him! Iolaus took advantage of their fury, kicking out at the man in front, swinging his legs up, back and over, breaking the grip of the two holding him.

But, there were too many, and he knew it. In a spare corner of his mind, he sent a silent apology to Jason. Hadn't he promised not to take on odds he couldn't handle, to send for help, to not be impulsive or thoughtless?

'So much for good intentions,' he thought, fighting desperately, determined to make their victory a costly one. Spinning, kicking, yelling, slashing and stabbing with his sword, he was a whirlwind of fire and justice. Three more fell, but still they kept coming. 'Gods,' he thought, weighing the odds still stacked against him, 'I'm getting 'way too old for this!'

He was only one man. He wouldn't get away with it. He couldn't win.

They were going to kill him.

'Well,' he thought, with a wild grin as he spun and kicked the sword out of one opponent's hand, ready for whatever the Fates threw at him, 'at least wondering what to do with my life won't be a worry anymore!'

Blindsided, he took one deep slash in his left arm while he dodged a knife he'd barely seen flying toward him, when the knife stopped in the air and whirled back on the man who'd thrown it, killing him. Startled, then grinning, Iolaus spun away from another attacker, kicking back at the man, knocking him flying, while four others seemed to be picked up by the wind, one after another, then two at once, and flown in quick succession fast and high, into the trees where they crashed resoundingly, before falling to the earth.

The last two, terrified by the mysterious and violent fate of their comrades, cut and ran. Iolaus sagged down on one knee, sweating and dirt covered, his right hand pressed to the wound in his left arm. "What took you so long, buddy? And, you forgot the rule, Herc," he giggled, "You're supposed to let me see you when you're around!"

Gods, he was glad Herc had shown up!

A furious god materialized thirty feet away and bore down on him, eyes flashing, voice raised in frightened anger. "What in Tarturus did you think you were doing?" Hercules raged, storming over to loom over Iolaus. "They would have killed you!"

Used to his friend's concern, Iolaus didn't take the anger seriously, shrugging as he examined the injury, "Yeah, well, calm down. They didn't, thanks to you."

He was unprepared for the grip of steel on his shoulders, lifting him, shaking him until his teeth rattled. "You can't keep doing this!" Herc shouted into his face.

Reflexively, Iolaus struck out with his right fist, beating at Herc's arm, yelling, "Put me down, you big ox! You're hurting me!"

Hercules dropped him in a heap, staring down at him, fighting for control. Iolaus scrambled back onto his feet, equally furious now, "What's with you? Get a grip, Hercules. I'm fine."

Looking at the blood spilling from the wounded arm, Herc growled, "You're not fine." He turned to rifle in the wagon and pulled out a bolt of linen which he tore into a long strip. "You're stupid!"

"Stupid! Well, I like that. They would have killed that guy!"

Hercules cast a cold glance at the merchant's body. "Looks like they already did," he muttered, coming back to Iolaus and grabbing his arm roughly.

"Oww! Not him, the other guy," Iolaus looked around, "I told him to run. Looks like he did. Watch the arm, Herc...don't be so rough!"

"Ran and left you to die," Hercules snarled as he tightly wrapped the linen around the wound, to stop the bleeding and protect it. Standing back, he glared at Iolaus, hands on his hips, eyes still filled with fury and fear.

"Yeah, well, you saved me. If you'd been here in the first place, it wouldn't have been a problem," Iolaus accused.

"Iolaus, you can't just rush in against the odds, hoping I'll turn up." Hercules still wanted to shake sense into his friend's hard head.

"Then, don't disappear on me again! What's so great about Olympus anyway? You never liked it! Why don't you just stay here?" Iolaus demanded, still sounding angry, but his words were motivated by the sense of abandonment which had been growing for days.

Hercules ground his teeth, looking away. "I can't," he said shortly.

"Can't or won't? Herc, you're a god. You can do whatever you want," Iolaus challenged back.

Shaking his head, Hercules looked back at him. "No, I can't. I am a god, Iolaus, and there are rules...."

"Rules!" snorted Iolaus, knowing what Herc had always thought about their rules.

"Yes, rules. Gods aren't supposed to interfere in what doesn't concern them...in the lives of mortals...." Hercules replied.

"Is that right? Seems I've heard that one before. Tell it to someone who might believe it. Gods are always interfering! 'Dite's always meddling in someone's love life, and Ares spends every waking moment goading mortals into war. Give me a break! And, if you're going to be so rule-abiding, then what are you doing here, interfering in my life?" Iolaus spat back. Gods. Rules. This was unbelievable.

"I have a right," Hercules replied, his voice tight, "*You are what 'concerns' me!"

"Really? So, now I'm your pet mortal...well, thanks a whole heap, Hercules," Iolaus snarled, turning away, holding his arm.

Hercules reached out and pulled him back to face him, not thinking of his strength. "You know better than that! Grow up," he lectured, his tone abrupt and impatient.

The words, the bruising grip, the lecturing tone crashed into Iolaus' heart. His face white, he stared at the hand crushing his arm. "Grow up?" he whispered, overcome with anger and hurt. His jaw was tight, as blue eyes haunted with fury and pain flashed back up to Hercules. Seething, he said very clearly, very deliberately, "Let go of my arm, and don't ever talk to me like that again. You're not my father, and I'm not your accolyte."

Stunned by the look in Iolaus' eyes, and the hostility in his voice, Hercules released his grip and stood back a pace. As soon as he had done so, Iolaus whirled away from him, going to retrieve his sword to put it back in its sheath on his belt. Then he walked over to where he'd flung his pack, picking it up and slinging it over his shoulder, not saying a word, ignoring the god who stood staring at him helplessly.

Hercules was feeling a growing desperation. He'd not meant to hurt Iolaus, had been terrified for him, horrified by the chances he had taken. He hadn't explained it right, too angry to be clear. He had to make Iolaus understand, not let him walk away from him in cold rejection.

"Iolaus, please," he started again, raising his hands in a supplicating gesture, "I'm sorry...I was out of line. I was scared, terrified when I came back and saw them about to kill you." He shook his head, looking around at the forest on either side of the road. "I can't lose you...not like this."

Iolaus paused, his back to Hercules, "It really is all about you, isn't it, Hercules?" His voice was bitter, resigned.

The god shook his head, swallowed, seeking the words to make his buddy understand. "No...no, it's not," he said quietly, moving to stand behind his friend. "This isn't how your life should end, Iolaus. Not on some empty, lonely road at the hand of thugs like them. I don't want you to die, I never wanted that. You know that."

Iolaus sighed, letting the anger go. "Then, what do you want, Hercules? For yourself? For me?" he asked, turning to look up into troubled blue eyes.

Herc spread his arms wide. "I want you to have a life, a good life. Iolaus, this," he said looking around at the scattered bodies, "this can't go on. You can't do this alone. This is your chance, buddy, to have something else. Something more."

Iolaus, too, looked around, closing his eyes for a moment, before turning to Hercules. "But, I liked what we did, Herc. I liked helping people, saving them from goons like this. I don't know if I can stop. I don't know if I want to," he tried to explain, without saying how completely lost he felt.

"I know," Hercules replied, looking away. "But, it's not the same now. You don't have anyone to watch your back."

"But, you could, couldn't you?" Iolaus hated the pleading note in his voice. He didn't want to beg Herc to come back to him, but he wanted that more than anything. "If Aphrodite is the Goddess of Love, and Ares is the God of War, couldn't you be the God of Protection or something like that, to be here, to help people who can't help themselves?"

Herc brought his eyes back to his friend's. Appearing to think about it, he shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. And you can't just go on like this until we do know, until I work all this out." He laid a gentler arm around his buddy's shoulders and guided him to the side of the road, making him sit down on a large rock.

Sitting beside him, Hercules continued, "Iolaus, you know that sometimes you've regretted not having a family. You always gave everything up for me, for what we did together. And you've helped a lot of people. But, this is your chance to have a different life, with a woman you love, to have children. Iolaus, it's not too late for that."

Mortal eyes searched those of the god, and warning bells went off when Herc's eyes shifted away. Herc never had time for the rules, still didn't, apparently, if they applied to Iolaus. The dismissal of the possible role Herc could play had been too fast, the redirection to the life Iolaus could now live too quick, too soon...too singleminded? Something else was going on here.

His eyes narrowed, Iolaus accused, "You made a deal."

Herc froze, then shook his head, not looking back at him. 'Damn it,' he thought, 'Iolaus is too damned quick.'

"With Zeus? A bargain of some sort? You'll behave if I get to have a good life? Is that it? Damn it, Herc!" Iolaus muttered looking away. "How could you do that? Don't I get a choice? What about what I want?"

Herc looked at the ground. "I can't give you what you want. I can't make it like it was, much as I wish I could. I even tried to get Zeus to turn back time ag..., well, he wouldn't even discuss it. We're stuck with this, Iolaus." He turned to gaze at his lifelong friend, a look of appeal in his eyes. "I'm just trying to make the best of it. And, it could be good, Iolaus. You have such a great capacity to love, and you were a great father...."

"Sounds like you have it all worked out," Iolaus said, unconvinced, still not happy about it. "Got the woman picked out, too?"

Hercules grinned and clapped him on the shoulder, "Now that's one area where you've never needed my help. Besides, I think we both know at least one who's out there, who's as constant as," he looked around for a suitable comparison, "as the sky."

Iolaus looked sharply away. "But, all the people who need you...how could you make a deal that means you can't, won't, help when you're needed?"

Hercules laid a hand on Iolaus' shoulder, rubbed his back then let his arm fall away. "All life's about choices, Iolaus. I can't make it the way it was. And, what if we did just try to pick up where we left off...for how long? Neither one of us would admit it, but...well, you're not getting any younger. At some point, it would have been one warlord too many. People will manage for a while without me," he finished off lamely. He'd known Iolaus wouldn't like this, if he ever figured it out.

Iolaus had stiffened at the reference to his age, the implication that he was slowing down, would have inevitably had to back out or die. "My life isn't worth it, Herc...there're too many bad guys out there, too many monsters...."

"It is to me," Hercules replied quietly. Then, with a tentative grin, he continued, "And Zeus never said we couldn't go after the odd monster...."

Iolaus turned at that, saw the grin, and couldn't resist one in return. "No? Well, then, it's not a total washout."

They sat in silence for a moment, Iolaus trying to accept that Hercules had made yet another deal for his life. "So, what exactly is the deal you made with Zeus, Herc? That I'll live a long and happy life providing you don't mess around in the lives of mortals?"

"Basically. I can't guarantee a happy life, Iolaus, but if you can resist getting into trouble, you could have a long one. 'Happy' is up to you. And, I got an agreement that the other gods would stay out of your life, leave you alone."

"The other gods?" Iolaus replied with a smirk.

Herc gave a half embarrassed shrug. "Well, yeah...I wasn't about to give up my chance to, well, help you out with the odd monster...or bandit," he finished with a rueful look at the bodies around them. Worried, he turned back to Iolaus, "But, don't go counting on me to always be around. Gods, Iolaus, I could get distracted for a moment and it would be three days later, way too late to back you up. You didn't even call me this time, dammit! If I hadn't've already been on my way...." He stopped, not wanting to even think about how close it had been.

Iolaus turned to fiddle with the bandage. Hercules, frowning in concern, asked, "Is your arm all right?"

"Yeah," Iolaus sighed, letting his hand drop away, "it's fine." He was struggling to take it all in, but the bottomline was that there was no hope of recovering what they'd had. Hercules had thrown away what might have been possible with a deal for him. He didn't like it, and he felt guilty. He also felt immeasurably, unbearably sad.

It was really over. Everything. The way they had lived. It was over, finished.

"So, I'm just supposed to get on with my life? Be happy? Live long and prosper?" he said bleakly.

"Do you think you could try to sound a little happier about it?" Hercules teased.

"No!" Iolaus replied sharply. "No. I'm not happy about it. I'd give anything to...." his voice cracked. "Gods, Herc, it hurts...and I feel guilty even imagining being happy without...."

Hercules reached out, putting an arm around Iolaus' shoulders, hugging him. "I know, buddy. But, no one I have ever known deserves happiness more than you do. And, it's not like I won't be around. It'll be all right. Please, I want you to be happy. And, I want you to live a long time. Forever."

Iolaus rubbed a hand over his face, sniffed, blinked away the moisture in his eyes. "The only forever I'd ever want is what we had, Herc."

"I know," Hercules replied softly. Then he pulled away, slapping Iolaus' back, saying, "You have a life to live, Iolaus, and it's time you got started with it."

Iolaus gazed at his oldest and best friend for a long time, struggling with the finality of this moment, this decision to begin a new life. He'd never wanted the old life to end. But, Herc was right. He couldn't do it alone, couldn't go on with a life that no longer made sense. He was getting too old...and, he was only one man, a mortal. He couldn't face all the challenges alone, to try would only be a kind of suicide. Look at what had almost happened here, just moments ago. Iolaus looked up at the sky, thinking of the one person with whom he could imagine sharing a life now that Herc could no longer be with him, then let his eyes fall to the ground, aware that Hercules was watching him...was worried about him. And, was waiting for his decision to go on, to find a new path.

Finally, Iolaus nodded. Standing, he picked up his pack. Without turning to Herc, he asked softly, "Will you come with me?"

"Beside you all the way, buddy," Hercules assured him, just as quietly.

Iolaus looked up at his best friend and smiled tentatively. "If things work out...I might need a best man...."

Hercules laughed. "Like I said, buddy, beside you all the way. I wouldn't miss that for the world! C'mon, let's get away from here. There's someplace you have to be."

Iolaus nodded, and they turned to head through the forest, heading west.